Red vs Blue: A Soldier's Strife
by X Prodigy
Summary: What if Caboose wasn't a moron? What if he was the opposite? What if he was smarter, stronger and was close enough to the perfect soldier? How would this effect the RVB timeline if the Blue Army had a very different Caboose? In ways you can't imagine...
1. What Does It Means To Be A Soldier?

Red vs. Blue: A Soldier's Strife

What Does It Mean To Be A Soldier?

Okay, here's a little bit about me:

I wanted to join the army since I was seven. I can thank my father for that. He was a proud man, had fought in two wars, and had come out with one leg missing and a lot of stories to tell. Never had a regret in his life, he'd often tell my mother. I think it was his way of justifying and reminding himself why he had fought and killed so many.

"Son, when you get a beautiful girl who says that she'll marry you if you come back alive…well, that's all the reason you need"

He'd often find himself telling me the same thing, and I'd never get bored. I wanted to go and find my dream girl, but not a princess or some maiden up on a perch like they describe in poetry. I wanted a woman who was hard as nails, who'd yell at me when I'd do something foolish. I wanted a woman who could fight and laugh and live like it was their last day.

Why? Because being able to call her mine whenever the odd intimate moments arose, would just make everything…perfert. Perfect as can be in a world like this.

Getting off the topic of women, my hobbies had always revolved around history. I always believed that the more you read about the past, the better equipped you are for the future.

I loved learning about the history of mankind, how we had real heroes who didn't need to wield a gun in order to earn the respect of a nation. I had so many role models (my Dad included) that I wanted to be like.

I wanted to be as smart as Einstein (I kind of failed on that part) so I learnt all I could when it came to Physics and Mathematics. I was in awe of people like Gandhi so I learnt all about religion of different faiths (I liked studying Sikhism particularly). Shakespeare blew my mind, I had a soft spot for learning and reciting poetry and even going as far as to try and learn the lines of some of his more famous plays (Macbeth along with Romeo and Juliet are my favourites).

People like Bruce Lee and other famous martial artists caught my eye, so I studied and trained as much as I could until I could knock a guy out with one punch, but also learnt the spiritual balance behind it, and how the fist should be used to bring peace instead of conflict (I studied Aikido for the better part of my teens). Even fictional characters like Sherlock Holmes drifted me to detective work, learning as much as I could about criminology and learning how to investigate a crime scene, which lead on to other practises such as how to interrogate and learn to tell when someone is lying by the movement of their body (I gave up on the criminology aspect, but interrogation came in very handy. Plus I still love reading Sherlock Holmes)

As you can imagine, all these things came in handy when I turned eighteen and joined the army straight away, leaving a broken-hearted mother and proud father behind me.

The army was and still is my life. I made friends, but not close enough so that they could still be considered my enemies. I leant everything there was to know about being a solder, how intercept radio broadcasts, how to be an incredible marksman and how to drive anything form a jeep to a tank. In my spare time I studied different languages. I could speak French, Spanish, and a little bit of Russian by the time I was twenty two.

A year later, I was witness to the Master Chief's conquest and victory over the Covenant, and was yet again, inspired to become an even better soldier. After all, you can always learn more.

Despite all of that, I was still a Private. The officers needed me, but they didn't want to show it. However, when the asked me to ship out to a remote area where conflict was highly likely; I agreed without hesitation.

So here I am, ready to be deployed to Blood Gulch Outpost Alpha. Hopefully all my years of skill will prove useful enough. I'm being sent over to the Blue Army, meant to take out a group known as the Red Army.

Most soldiers would see this as a way to get rid of a soldier, and normally I would agree with them. However, something about it just…called me. Maybe I had been reading too much fiction…but I just felt that I was needed.

I'm meant to meet with a man called Church, whose leading the group. I'm being shipped out within the hour along with a Smart-Tank to aid them in their struggle.

Maybe here I'll learn what it really means to be a soldier.

After all, it's a box canyon in the middle of nowhere, what could possible go wrong?


	2. My Name Is Caboose

Red vs. Blue: A Soldier's Strife

My Name Is Caboose…

As always, it was a mild and sunny day in the middle of nowhere. The box canyon stretched for a few miles before reaching the two bases, one with a red flag with the symbol of a cobra on it, the other one with a blue flag with the picture of an eagle on it.

"_An eagle; the symbol of freedom Good choice" _thought the soldier dressed in dark blue armour.

The drop ship had had a technical fault and had landed him a few miles from the canyon. Luckily he knew how to drive a tank and spent a few extra minutes memorising the controls just in case of emergency combat.

Finally, he made his way to Blue Base. He leapt out of the driver's seat and waited to meet his superiors.

After half an hour of waiting, he saw two figures approaching, one in light blue armour, the other one in cyan armour. The soldier couldn't help but mentally smirk, at least there wouldn't be any confusion among who was who.

"Morning sirs, I'm your new soldier, and I brought you a little hello gift" he said, turning to the tank.

The other two were silent just looking at the tank like it was a holy relic, the soldier noticed the awkward silence and thought it be best to start conversation.

"She's a beauty isn't she? Automatic gunfire, six gears of speed, full rotation, the main cannon fires a shell that can deliver up to a maximum of twenty feet of damage, and of course a tutorial program for beginners, but I'm sure yousoldiers are already prepared. I've even assigned-"

"Hey rookie" the cyan soldier turned to him.

"Yes sir?" he answered.

"Shut up, you're ruining the moment" he said as he turned back to the tank.

"I feel like I could blow up the whole goddamn world with this thing" the light blue soldier said dreamily.

"Dude, forget what I said before, we can totally pick up chicks in this thing" the cyan soldier responded.

"_Chicks? Did I just step into the 80's? From there lack of respect and manners I'm praying that there just rebellious rookies" _he thought to himself.

"Ahem…well, yeah, its fully operational and ready for use. By the way…are you the commanders of this base?" he asked.

"…Oh, you talking to me?" the light blue soldier answered as he turned around.

"_As I feared…" _he mentally hit himself

"Yes sir, I was just hoping to get introductions out of the way and meet the rest of the army before we begin with operations to assault the red base" he said calmly.

"Army? Operations? Assault? Rookie where did they ship you from?" he asked sarcastically.

"_Five minutes here and I've already made an enemy, not the best of starts" _he sighed in his head.

"They shipped me from Sky Outpost 46.8, the senior officers recommended me to join your army" he responded.

"Sky Outpost? You bullshitting me? Isn't that the place for potential supersoldiers?" the light blue soldier asked.

"_Wow, what a great vocabulary this one has"_

"For a better term, yes, I was in my fourth year before being shipped out over here, now if you would be kind enough to answer my question" he asked.

"You? A supersoldier? There's no way they would let a rookie in" the light blue one continued to rant.

"_I would be so easy to just to pull out my sidearm and…no, relax, inner peace, don't be deterred by one encounter" _he repeated in his head.

He then turned his attention to the cyan soldier, who really hadn't been paying attention.

"I take it you're second in command?"

"Me? I don't know, for about three weeks it's just been me and him" he responded lazily.

"Wait...just you two…you're the army…just you two…" he said in disbelief.

"_Maybe Command was serious, how do they hope to win a war with just the two of them? Oh well…with me here that at least puts some of the odds in their favour"_

"Pretty much, just me and Church and one empty base, but now that we have a tank, it changes everything…I wonder how many chicks I can fit in this?" he continued to dream.

"Ah, so you're Lieutenant Church" the soldier said, turning to the light blue soldier.

"That's right, the other guy is Tucker…and that pretty makes up the Blue Army" he said, not really concerned.

"_Church and Tucker…something tells me by their behaviour that they aren't the most capable of soldiers, let's hope they at least know how to shoot"_

"I see, so what of the Red Army, how many in their units?"

"They have four in their group-"

"Nah, they got a new recruit as well" Tucker intervened.

"Okay five men, that's pretty much all you need to know" Church concluded.

"…_Wow, five men to defeat – either they are the highest possible grade of solider, or this war is going to be over really quickly"_

"Right then, so um…which duty shall I be assigned?" he asked.

"Duty?"

"Yes, duty, you know: sentry, marksman, artillery, scout, you name it, I'm up for anything" the soldier said proudly.

"Um…you can…stand on the base…or…oh wait! You can guard the flag" the one known as Church said.

"…Guard the flag" he said, deadpanned.

"Yep, just make sure it's not stolen and make sure it doesn't get too dusty" Church yawned.

"I was hoping for something on the lines of _combat_" the soldier responded.

"Well when a charging army of five men come to attack us, I'll let you know and you can be the meat-shield" Church responded.

"_Its official – I hate this guy"_

"…Very well sir" the soldier growled as he turned around and headed into the base, a long list of curses quietly exhaling for his mouth.

"I swear Tucker, the rookies get more annoying each time they come" Church snorted a she turned to the cyan soldier.

"Yeah…wait, the last rookie was me"

"My point exactly, just let the rookie play solider for a while and hopefully he won't annoy us"

"I have a name you know" the soldier shot back, he was halfway between them and the base, well into hearing distance of their discussion.

"And I really don't care" Church called back.

"You know, I can really see why command wanted me to come over. I can't fathom as to how you guys have lasted this long. I'm guessing the other team is as twice as incompetent" he growled.

"…Did he just insult me?" Church asked.

"Oh God almighty…look, I don't want trouble here, I've been sent to do a job, so forming a blood feud on my first day isn't exactly what I had planned"

"You know Tucker, I hear his voice, but the words just seem to end up as crap" Church sighed.

"_Maybe I should go and join the Red Army"_

"Look rookie, the rules apply, a rookie is a rookie, and no matter where you came from that doesn't change that fact that you're a rookie" Church yelled back.

"…Fine" the soldier snorted before turning around and making his way to the base.

"Ha! Sure showed him" Church grinned.

Like a bolt of lightning the soldier reached for his firearm and whirled around by the gate entrance and pulled the trigger, the bullet swerved through the air. Just as Church turned around it scratched the side of his helmet, forming a crescent indent, after which the bullet continued on its path and made an imprint on the cavern wall.

"What the hell?" Church yelled in shock.

"The rules still apply, a great marksman is still a great marksman" the dark blue soldier grinned at the pair.

"Just for the record, my name is Caboose"


	3. A Lesson In Marksmanship

Red vs. Blue: A Soldier's Strife

A Lesson In Marksmanship

Caboose found the awkward silence that followed quite rewarding, though he couldn't see Church's face, he knew that the look must have been priceless. After all, not many rookies could curve a bullet from a couple hundred feet away and leave a deep scar on his helmet for everyone to see.

Tucker was the first to open his mouth and try and relieve the tension that was rising rapidly among the Blue Army.

"Um…so…uh…how many chicks do you think we can fit in this thing?" Tucker asked, returning to the tank.

_"Is that all he thinks about?" _Caboose thought to himself.

"Tucker! The rookie just shot me! He nearly took my fucking head off!" Church yelled out, still in shock .

"If I wanted to take you head off, I would have used a shotgun with an explosive round. Trust me, if I wanted to scatter your brains around Blood Gulch, then I could and can still do without any problems" he sighed.

"You want to back up that threat! How would you like it if I tried to blow your brains to bits!" Church threatened.

"I would unload three clips into your body and decapitate your head with a dagger, why do you ask?" he answered calmly.

"…I could kill you right here right now!" he yelled back.

"Try it" Caboose challenged, as he watched Church grab the nearest weapon to him, which just happened to be a sniper rifle.

_"Ah, looks like he might be a good marksman after all, it takes a lot of skill to be able to use one of those in close quarter combat. If I remember correctly, it has a three second reload time, that should be enough time for me to fire two shots into his left shoulder, giving me enough time to-"_

Without warning Church fired a bullet…only for it to have hit the wall of the base…at least ten feet from its intended target.

Caboose was in awe of how bad a shot that was that he didn't even register that he had fired two more shots; each of them missing.

_"…Screw it, I'm just going to see how long it takes for him to actually get close to shooting me"_

* * *

Five whole minutes past and Church didn't even come close, cursing all the while and blaming the rifle for being faulty, Caboose had to try extremely hard not to burst out laughing.

_"Okay this is…impressively bad marksmanship, I mean you to try to be this bad. I can see from here that he even has the zoom on. He should be able to shoot me right between the eyes and yet…is the army just taking in anyone these days?" _Caboose sighed.

"You know, it helps if you actually aim at your target before you try to shoot them" Caboose called across.

"Rookie! Shut the hell up!" Caboose yelled, firing as many shots as he could, before suddenly the sniper rifle made a cringing click and the trigger became lodged.

_"Now he's jammed it…I think I could expect better skill form a chimpanzee let alone this guy"_

"If it makes it any easier, why not just try to use the assault rifle?" Caboose suggested, Church gave him a confused look.

"Do you want to get yourself killed?" he asked.

"From what I've seen, I doubt you'll even get close" Caboose taunted.

"Okay, that's it!" Church yelled, as he pulled out his other weapon, his assault rifle. He instantly pulled the trigger and let loose with a hail of bullets.

_"He's quick to anger, found his weak spot already" _Caboose said as he instantly rolled forward out of the line of fire.

Firing two shots, one grazing Church's inner leg, the other his outer elbow. They wouldn't pierce his armour, but the force of impact would stall him for 0.6 seconds according to his logic. In that time he made his move.

"Ha! Missed me!" Church grinned, laughing right into the dark of the gun's barrel in front of his face.

"…Crap, this guy's good" Tucker thought aloud.

"Thank you, I did spend my entire life training to become a great soldier. I think I'm maybe a quarter of the way there" Caboose grinned, never taking his eyes off Church.

"…So what? You going to shoot me?" Church gulped.

"…No" Caboose said as he put his sidearm away, eyes going fro one to another.

"One moral I stand by is not to kill your own team-mates. You kill the enemy, an ally could save your life one day, I stand by that rule" he said.

"…Hey…um, what Church said before, he was talking bullshit" Tucker quickly spat out.

"Hey!" Church yelled out.

"Church, I'm not willing to risk my ass after what he nearly did to you. Quite frankly, I don't want to get on the bad side of this guy" Tucker sharply responded.

_"That'll be the day"_

"Yeah…but…I mean I had…uh…fine" Church said, looking at Caboose, hand firmly gripped around his gun.

"Yeah look, maybe we did get off on the wrong foot. I'm Leonard Church…so as your commanding officer, I'd prefer for you not to try and shoot my head off in the future" he said with a hint of annoyance.

"Dually noted. My name is Michael J. Caboose, and I hope I won't find a reason to do so in the near future" Caboose said calmly, sheathing his pistol.

"Phew, now that that's out of the way…how many chicks do you think you could fit in this tank? I'm going for twenty!" Tucker daydreamed.


	4. The Morals I Stand By

Red vs. Blue: A Soldier's Strife

The Morals I Stand By

"You know…I actually have a girl back home" Church broke the tension and relayed the information to the others.

"Really? A wife or a girlfriend?" Tucker asked, intrigued that his usually cold leader had a soft spot for a woman.

"Nah, just a girlfriend; I was going to ask her to marry me but I got shipped out" Church responded calmly.

_"A girl back home? Maybe I was a bit harsh with this guy…I guess I'm not used to how they do things around here…and technique or otherwise he is my commander so I guess I do need to show him respect…but knowing me, I'm just a loser for a good old soldier's romance story, just like Dad used to tell me" _Caboose thought to himself, smiling as he did.

"Ah, sorry to hear about that; is she your dream girl?" Caboose asked, trying to be as friendly as possible.

"Her? Well she isn't exactly a princess" Church chuckled, the idea of his girl as a damsel in distressmaking him chuckle.

"Oh? What's she like then?" he asked.

"Why so interested? Don't you have a girl waiting for you?" Church asked, a swell of pride in his chest, having a girl seemed to certainly give him a boost in status.

"Sadly no, the army has been my mistress these past few years…but I do hope to get a girl one day. After serving my planet and finishing my duty" Caboose sighed to himself.

"I didn't know they made boy scouts like you anymore" Church sniggered. Caboose felt the heat of embarrassment cross his face.

"I was raised to live on the old morals of life: hard work, the love of friends and a woman that understands" he said proudly.

"Yeah…well, I was raised on the new morals of life: sleep, sex and a beer after the enemy wave is taken down" Church countered.

"You and I live on very different ends of the spectrum, Church" the soldier in dark blue said seriously.

"I live in reality, not the old American Dream" Church snorted.

"The American Dream?" Caboose remained quiet for a second or two, like he was restraining himself, before finally speaking again.

"The American Dream is what gave the soldiers hope when fighting in World War II. The American Dream is the cause that makes a man leave his family in order to serve for a better tomorrow. It was the American Dreams that made my father fight alongside the Master Chief in the Great War, where he sacrificed the ability to walk and sleep soundly at night! It's the American Dream that inspired me to join and hope to be one tenth of the man that he is today!" Caboose said passionately, words poetically coming from his heart.

"Yeah well, your Dad was an idiot for believing that" Church responded, his voice was dull, not affected by this counterpart's words.

"Don't disrespect my father…!" Caboose warned, temper flaring.

"Look, any idiot who joins for that reason clearly has something wrong with him. You join either because you have to, if you're broke, or you've got nothing left to lose. You join the army because you want to be a soldier, not some boy scout who wants to preach something from a history book" Church snapped back, his anger flaring also.

"And its because of people like you that the world doesn't strive for peace! Its not enough just to fight because someone ordered you to! Its something you have to believe in! You have to believe there's a justice behind it! Not because you were bored, or because you had no money! If you had a girl back home then you of all people would know what it means to be a soldier!" Caboose yelled back.

"Oh so now your bringing my girl into this! You want to try and insult her as well?" Church yelled, squaring up to the soldier in dark blue.

"I didn't say that, I'm just saying that if you had a girl back home that you loved, or you wanted to protect, then you would want to join just to make sure you had the chance of seeing her again!" Caboose growled, forgetting all friendship and losing himself in the anger of the moment.

"Why do you even care? You don't know me! You don't know this girl I like! Stop trying to preach to us about **how**to be a soldier, and just **be**a soldier! Oh, and for your information, my girl is as hard as nails! She is strong and determined and is capable of being a better soldier than anyone else!" Church yelled right into the face of his opponent.

"Good! I'm happy for you! Because that's the type of girl that I want-" Caboose stopped his words, seeing to where the argument was heading.

"…You know what…forget it, I'm going to…go guard the flag" he sighed before turning around and heading inside the base.

"Good! Stay there! Away from me!" Church yelled after him as he disappeared inside, he then turned to Tucker.

"Can you believe that jackass! Coming in all high and mighty just because he got a little extra training! Seriously, the only way I could be anymore annoyed was if he had called my girlfriend a slut!" Church rambled, but then noticed Tucker was standing still, not moving or saying a word.

"What's the matter with you?" he asked.

"I'm sorry man…but…that was…just so beautiful!" Tucker sniffed.

"About calling my girlfriend a slut? D you want me to break your teeth?" Church yelled, raising a fist.

"No….his whole speech about the American Dream thing…I got to say…that was really inspiring…something you want to hear before you really did go into battle…not like we got, the general saying good luck and giving us a coupon at Starbucks…" Tucker sniffed, fighting back a wave of emotion.

"…Well…when you put it that way…yeah…it does sound kinda nice…" Church grumbled, not wanting to believe his own words.

* * *

Inside the base, Caboose was standing at attention beside the Blue Army Flag, the picture of the black eagle in the centre waved slightly as a short breeze entered from the outside.

But the soldier wasn't interested in the scenery, he was more concerned with Church's words that laced to his mind like glue, and at the same time; he doubted his own. This was very unlike him, as all his life he had stood by his beliefs no matter what anyone else had said.

_"Stop trying to preach to us about **how** to be a soldier, and just **be** a soldier? There is logic in his words…have I been just blindly repeating what my father has said all these years?" _the thought deeply depressed him.

_"Not the best start, all I want is to serve, and serve well…but here I am, wearing my heart on my sleeve! I shouldn't have given in so easily, I let my temper take control of my words! Well, that won't happen again; I'll make sure of it!" _he thought confidently.

"All I need to do is get by with those two, and more importantly launch an assault on the Reds, or at least gather some information on them, no matter how moronic they are. I just wish I had one to interrogate" Caboose thought aloud.

"All right! The store!" a high-pitched voice made Caboose whirl around to see another soldier, in standard red armour.

_"…Well, that was easy"_


	5. The Colours Red and Blue

Red vs. Blue: A Soldier's Strife

The Colours Red and Blue

"Finally, I'd thought I'd never find this place. Oh, are you the salesman?" the soldier asked, his voice was rather high pitched, but his armour nevertheless was standard red.

_"The store…? Is this guy really a soldier of the Red Army?"_

"I hope you're stocked up on headlight fluid, because I promised the guys back at Red Base that I would get some. I want to have good merit on my first day here! By the way, you don't happen to sell elbow grease do you?" he asked.

_"…Is this guy for real? Either this is the worst infiltration in the history of mankind…or this guy is one shy of a brain cell"_

"Um…hello? I'm trying to buy something, so I'd prefer if you could hurry it up. Grif and Simmons will want this back a.s.a.p! As a soldier of the Red Army, I can't go back empty handed" the soldier continued to rant.

_"I don't have it in me to shoot him. I'll disarm him and make him talk; ten minutes in this place and I know words don't mean anything compared to action"_

"Hey! Listen up wise-guy! I'm in a hurry so stop acting like a zombie and just get me what I-"

In a blur of speed, the silent Caboose sped forward, delivering a hard punch to the soldier's gut, stripping him of breath and making him keel over.

_"Fool or not; Reds are my enemy…"_

* * *

"Okay, so the guy made a couple of pretty speeches; something in my gut tells me this guy will bring us nothing but trouble!" Church barked.

"Look, I don't really care if the guy is a supersoldier or a Jehovah's witness, all I know is it wouldn't be so bad to have another guy to take the work around here. It means less for us" Tucker sighed.

"Why are you standing up for him? I thought you of all people would agree with the sleep, sex and beer morals!" Church snorted.

"To be perfectly honest, I don't really care that much for the both of you! I've known this dude less than ten minutes and all I know is that he's good for pissing you off, and I don't like you that much because you can be a total prick! And for your information, I have my own morals!" Tucker defended himself.

"Oh, and what's that?" Church asked raising an eyebrow.

"B.B.B.A.A.A.D.S" Tucker said proudly.

"What's that? Bragging Bumbling Bastard Acts As A Drooling Shithead?" Church asked, the comment making Tucker go red with anger and annoyance.

"No. Boobs, Boobs, Boobs, Ass, Ass And Drunk Supermodels!" Tucker laughed and fantasised at the thought.

"…You're a fucking retard"

"And you're a complete prick"

* * *

Private Donut had been taught to expect the unexpected, to be ready for any assault, a friend today could be your foe tomorrow. It had kept him alive in training. He had even been wary of Grif and Simmons, his superior officers.

But who would have thought a store-clerk would have been an enemy?

He had politely asked if he had any headlight fluid or elbow grease, he had remained silent, and when he pressured him…he lashed out, and in one fluid motion his fist was now buried in his abdome. He felt himself cough up blood.

This was followed by knee to the helmet, which made him lose his vision briefly, he then felt a hand around his throat as he was thrown against the side of wall.

No, this definitely wasn't a good first day.

"Talk, tell me everything about the Reds" his voice was devoid of emotion.

"I-I don't know anything…its my first day" he choked out.

"Not a good answer" he tightened the hold on the soldiers throat, making him gasp for air, he certainly wasn't going to let a golden opportunity like this slip through his fingers.

"Okay! Okay! Well...my name is Donut, I'm a Private" he choked out. Caboose had use all his mental training not laugh. He had heard some pretty ridiculous surnames in his life but this took the cake.

"Good, now tell me about the Reds, names, weapons, tactics, anything you know" Caboose demanded.

"You…can't…make me…betray them…you'll never get anything…out of me…!" Donut said, feeling proud. That vanished when another couple of punches forced their way into his ribs, followed by a set of knuckles hitting him in the face. Donut fell to his knees, where he looked up again he saw the end of a gun pointing in his face.

"Feel like talking now?" Caboose asked.

"…Grif is the soldier in the orange armour! He's lazy, likes long walks on the beach, smoking inside his helmet and has a distaste for everyone else on the Red Team but too lazy to rebel! Simmons is the maroon coloured soldier who has this thing for he sergeant…I think. Grif said it was kiss-ass-erism while he calls it extremely loyal" Donut began to babble.

_"Too easy"_

* * *

"What do you mean I'm a crap shot?" Church yelled out.

"He was les than ten paces away, you had a sniper rifle on full zoom, you unloaded two clips, you missed every time! You. Are. A. Crap. Shot!" Tucker responded bitterly.

"Oh really! Well I guess a crap shot like me wouldn't be able to shoot you square between the eyes from one step away!" Church growled sarcastically.

"You couldn't even throw a grenade without it missing!" Tucker barked back. Enraged, Church grabbed a grenade form his suit.

"Wanna a bet! Wanna bet I can't even hit that rock over there?" Church yelled pointing to a lone rock a few feet off.

"Actually-"

"Just watch! I'll you whose a crap shot!" Church said as he hurled the grenade. It looked like it was dead on target…until it bounced off the face of it…bounced off the tank…bounced off the cavern wall…and right into the middle of the base.

"…Don't say anything Tucker" Church warned.

* * *

"And Lopez is the really quiet guy who drinks motor oil and gives everyone the cold shoulder! That's all I know, I swear!" Donut practically cried.

_"That has to be the easiest interrogation ever, and I didn't even have to resort to digging out his fingernails with a bullet shell" _Caboose sighed.

"D-Does that mean I can go back now…?" Donut asked, Caboose gave him a blank look.

"That's not going to happen, you might be needed as leverage at one point. So until then you'll-" Caboose stopped mid sentence when he heard a hissing sound, he looked around to see a blue spherical device enter the room, letting off blue sparks.

"Oh hell…" Caboose cursed.

**KABOOM!**

The explosion covered much of the central quarters of the base. Caboose had leapt to the side at the point of explosion, so was sent flying and smashing into a wall instead of being blown to bits, but that didn't spare him any of the pain.

"Oh…when I get my hands on those two I'll-" Caboose grovelled as he slowly got to his feet and his vision returned, where he noticed that there was something absent from the room.

The flag was gone.

Saying nothing, Caboose exited the smoking base to see a red figure running away with a slight limp, the Blue Team's flag in his hands.

"…I hate the Reds…and I hate the Blues"


	6. Gearing Up For Combat

Red vs. Blue: A Soldier's Strife

Gearing Up For Combat

"So let me get this straight…you let him get away…with the flag?" Church yelled. All three Blues were atop of the base, trying to pinpoint the escaping Red.

"You let a member of the Red Team escape, with our flag!" Church yelled at Caboose, who was using every ounce of willpower to prevent himself from lashing out like a hungry panther and rip his superior's throat out.

"For the fiftieth time, I was interrogating him and extracting information on the Reds before _someone_ launched a freaking grenade into the base!" he retorted.

"Well, sounds like your interrogation went swimmingly, because he ended getting away with the flag!" Church snapped back.

"And whose fault was that?"

"Yours! I specifically assigned you to guard the flag! Then you go and fuck everything up by losing it to a member of the Red Team!" Church growled.

"My fault! You threw the bloody grenade! It was either drop my guard and dodge or stay and get blown into a million pieces!" Caboose seethed.

"Look, we've already decided that the grenade incident was Tucker's fault-"

"What the hell? How did I get dragged into it?" The cyan solider blurted out.

"You're the one who provoked me into throwing the grenade, so the blame falls on you for luring your commanding officer into a situation that involves the rookie losing our flag!" Church reasoned.

"What kind of fucked up logic is that? If you didn't have such crap aim then none of this would have happened!" Tucker yelled back.

"I'm warning you Tucker, don't make me pull you into that German Suplex again! Last time I broke your leg!"

"You tried to pull me in a lock and failed miserably, so you brought out a sledgehammer and bashed my leg in!"

"If you ladies are finished arguing, I have our target in my sight" both turned to Caboose who was armed with the sniper rifle and aiming for the renegade Red who was running across the valley as fast as he could.

_"Sorry Donut, looks like I'm going to have to leave you without an arm for the time being" _Caboose thought as he zoomed in as far as he good and prepared to pull the trigger.

"Hey! Get the hell off my sniper rifle!" Church yelled as he grappled the gun just as he pulled the trigger, causing the bullet to strayed off its course and hear the earth. Donut could be heard cursing as he rushed back to the base.

"Great going! I had him in my sights!" Caboose growled.

"I'm the commander which means that I call dibs on the sniper rifle!" Church argued.

"Fine, then take him out" Caboose challenged.

Mumbling, Church took aim and fired several shots in rapid succession. Both the soldiers sighed as each shot missed followed by a curse from the light blue soldier.

"Damn it! Looks like we're going to have cut him off!" he said, taking out his assault rifle.

"Tucker, you and me will go through the teleporter and intercept him before he gets to Red Base" he ordered as he headed for the glowing green doorway.

"Wait, the teleporter? No way am I going through there!" he complained.

"C'mon Tucker, we already tested the teleporter when we were shipped here!" Church complained.

"We threw rocks through it!" Tucker yelled out hysterically.

"It's the same principle, now get your ass through the damn teleporter!" Church snapped back.

"But they were smoking and covered in black stuff!" he complained.

"Oh so that's it, your afraid of a little black stuff" Church sighed, annoyed at his ally's stubbornness.

"Nothing you can say will make me go through!" he insisted.

"Tucker, I almost hate to do this" he sighed as he raised his assault rifle to his face.

"Wait, what the hell!" he said, taking a few steps back.

"The way I see it, either you go through, or I kill you. Either way I win" he explained.

_"Sure signs of a great leader, death or possible suicide. Give me a break!"_

"I just want to let you know; rocks aren't people!" Tucker sighed in defeat.

"Dually noted, now move your ass"

Sighing, Tucker ran through the portal, disappearing in a flash of light, both soldiers looked out into the distance to see if he would come out the other side.

1 second, 2 seconds, 3 seconds…378 seconds…

"Yeah…I've decided not to use the teleporter. Stay here rookie, I'll be back in no time!" Church said as he leapt off the base with his assault rifle in his hands, charging across the canyon.

"Sure, I'll just stay here and guard the base while you get yourself killed…jackass" Caboose sighed to himself, yawning he sat on the edge of the base and mildly looked at the sky.

_"What a mess, I don't see any other reason command sent me here unless they wanted to get rid of me; and I seriously doubt if its for a top secret mission. I've been here little over five hours and I already hate my own team…"_

* * *

An hour of waiting later, Caboose was amusing himself by constantly disassembling and checking all the components of his side-arm, cleaning the barrel for the seventh time while trying not to fall asleep with the amount of boredom weighing on his mind.

That's when he heard the sound of machine-gun fire…

Snapping his head up, he saw in the distance the flickering of lights as a machine gun mounted on the back of a vehicle was shooting away at the side of the canyon wall.

Grabbing the sniper-rifle; he zoomed in to see what was going on. From his view he saw two soldiers in maroon and orange suits shooing away at a patch of rock further along the canyon's wall.

_"From what that other Red said I can only assume that's Simmons and Grif, but what are they firing at?"_

Looking up the cliff, he spotted two figures cowering under a rock, one in light blue armour, the other in black armour.

_"Oh boy, looks like Church's plan didn't go that well. I can only assume the other guy is Tucker and that his trip through the teleporter didn't go that well"_

Setting the sniper rifle down beside him, he tried to weigh up his options of the situation at hand. On the one hand, he could just stay here as instructed, the outcome would probably be the unanimous death of both Blues.

On the other hand…

"There's always the tank" he thought aloud as he peered over to the large and destructive vehicle, which he had at his disposal

_"Guess its time for some actual combat, about time!"_


	7. Metal Gear Sheila

Red vs. Blue: A Soldier's Strife 

Metal Gear Sheila 

"_Hello, and welcome to the M808V Main Battle Tank, you may call me Sheila"_

The electronic yet undeniable feminine voice of the tank spoke out. Caboose had strapped himself inside, cracked his knuckles and started the seemingly living weapon up. All systems were running smoothly, just liked he had hoped. If he was going to be tearing apart two soldiers, eh didn't want any of the guns jamming while he did so. It would be a hassle to fix the guns manually.

"_Wow, the first person to say something nice to me, and it's a tank, oh the irony" _Caboose thought to himself, checking the weapon systems for a third time.

"_This unit comes equipped with a tutorial for all non-experienced personal, should I run the program?"_ Sheila asked.

"Negative, shift to manual control and engage the main turret" Caboose instructed.

"_Confirmed. You have yet to activate the Friendly Fire Program; this program ensures that all allied units are removed from the automatic targeting system. Would you like to run the program?"_ Sheila asked.

"Hmm…let me get back to you on that one"

* * *

Gunfire rained down like…well, rain. Cornered behind a steadily decreasing boulder, Church and Tucker could only continually lower their bodies, as more and more bullets seemed to skim over the rock.

"Well this fucking sucks!" Tucker yelled out, his once gleaming cyan armour now a smouldering black due to his little trip through the teleporter.

"Don't worry, I've got a plan" Church replied.

"Is it a plan that doesn't involve using me as a meatsheild?" Tucker asked.

"…Okay, I've got another plan! You stay here and draw their fire; I'll sneak around back and get them by surprise. Then you jump out and we'll catch them all in a crossfire" Church explained.

"I like that plan, I like the part where I do jackshit and you're the one who'll likely get your head blown off" Tucker added.

"Of course it's a good plan! I'm brilliant when it comes to making plans! Just stay here and jump out when I give you the signal" Church explained.

"Gotcha…wait, hang on!" Tucker suddenly blurted.

"What?"

"What happens if I jump out too soon and I get torn to ribbons by machine gun fire?" Tucker asked urgently.

"Just stay put and wait for my signal, when you hear me make the first shot, that's your cue to leap out and start firing like you're Sylvester Stallone!" Church snapped back.

And with that, the blue soldier disappeared around the edge of the rock, veering away from the bullets, hopefully unseen by his attackers. The black-armoured soldier was on his knees by the point. The thunderous sound of the machine gun was so loud he could barely himself think.

Wait a second. How the hell was he going to be able to Church's gunfire from theirs, how the hell would he even tell the difference?

Tucker mentally bitch-slapped himself.

"THAT ASSHOLE!" he howled.

* * *

Dexter Grif had to admit, most day he spent in Blood Gulch were boring as hell. All he ever did was avoid duties, annoy Simmons until he exploded, try and figure out why Lopez only spoke Spanish, and sleep the days away.

But even he had to admit, shooting the hell out of the Blues was way better than any of the above. Something about hearing two blue soldiers cry out in fear as the bullet form the Warthog's machine gun chased after them like hellhounds was quite the spectacle.

"_Whoa, I'd better pace myself before I end up turning into Sarge_" he thought to himself.

His partner, Dick Simmons, seemed to be having the most fun. Well, he was the one with the machine gun. Despite only hitting the rock itself, he seemed to be having the time of his life. Maybe even kiss-asses eventually had their breaking point, and they needed something else to fulfil them, other than clinging onto the words of their commander like he was a deity.

Eventually, he realised that all they were doing was wasting bullets and needed a new strategy if they were going t take out the Blues. That, and he hadn't had turn on the machine gun, and his trigger finger was overcoming his laziness rather rapidly.

"Hey Simmons! You may want to call it quits! The Blues aren't coming out!" he called out, but his voice was drowned out by gunfire.

Instead of steadily yelling louder, Grif felt the gene that kept him from doing any kind of work kick in. Following that logic, he promptly took out his assault rifle, and used the end of it to knock Simmons off the vehicle. He gave a cry of pain as he fell down in a heap.

"What the hell was that for?" he yelled out.

"You need to have your ears tested Simmons, I already called out once, maybe if you stopped repeating what Sarge said like a metronome in your head for five seconds you could listen what the rest of us have to say" Grif yawned, watching as his comrade slowly got to his feet with much difficulty

"Oh yeah, like I'd want to listen to anything you'd have to say! Besides, you've given the enemy a chance to regroup! I had them on the ropes!" Simmons spat out.

"You were just hitting the rock!"

"Well, at least that was fun; I'd like to see you try something more…" Simmons' voice trailed off.

"What's the matter? Cat got your tongue? Or did you realise that in my infinite wisdom I was right about you wasting all our imported ammo?" Grif asked, his voice layered with mockery.

"Grif…"

"I mean, seriously? Just aiming at the rock? Have a little more creativity Simmons! There's a hundred ways to lure a Blue out and kill them, you're just not thinking outside the box" Grif continued.

"Grif…" Simmons repeated, his voice showing hints of fear.

"For example, you could always yell out 'hey Blue! We surrender!' luring them into a false sense of security, then you reveal that it was an actual lie, then tear em' a new one!"

"Grif"

"Or we spray paint Lopez blue, and make it out that he's a blue hooker. When the rest of Blues come running because they think they might score, Lopez reveals he's been loaded with grenades, than kaboom!"

"Grif!"

"Wow, I'm becoming kind of sadistic lately, maybe I've been doing too much work lately. I'd better tell Sarge I'm taking an extra holiday for medical reasons, hanging around him is turning me into a bit of a gun nut"

"GRIF!"

"What?" Grif asked.

"Look. Behind. You" Simmons demanded, swallowing a lump in his throat.

Deciding to humour him, Grif turned around. He ended up looking down the barrel of the M808V Main Battle Tank's cannon. Needless to say, Grif paled at the very sight, and if he hadn't been scared shitless, he would have overcome his laziness gene and ran like hell.

"What the hell…is that?" Grif thought aloud, voice trembling.

From the 'driver's seat', Caboose was grinning from ear to ear. Sneaking up on them had been too easy, all the gunfire being a nice distraction. Now, he hadn't met Grif or Simmons before, so he had to make a decent first impression. After all, fear was a great weapon, and Donut had already a taste of what he could do.

A solid takedown was good when it worked, but for the present situation, he required something much more…explosive.

"Gentlemen" Caboose spoke out, smiling inside his helmet.

* * *

If Church was honest with himself, he had come up with his plan on the spot. If he had less of a coinsciouss he would be back at the base by now. But adrenaline was in his veins now, and was mentally forcing himself to go through with his plan. He would get the drop on the Reds and greet them with a spray of gunfire.

If that didn't work, he was going to run back to base like the devil himself was after him. Tucker was expendable after all, and if anything, he hadn't chosen to sacrifice himself like he had suggested in his original plan.

Oh yeah, Church definitely had the moral high ground on this one. After all he wasn't the one heading towards a possible orange and maroon coloured death.

The ground became level and green, which meant the vehicle that resembled a Puma was just around the corner. Assault Rifle at the ready, Church made a sharp turn and prepared to unleash hell.

A second later, the vehicle exploded.

"SON OF A BITCH!" Grif called out.

"SON OF A BITCH!" Simmons cried out.

"SON OF A BITCH!" Church yelled out.

* * *

Tucker was sent falling to the rocky floor when the aftershock of the explosion hit him. Raising his head up, he saw the two Reds running for the high hills, with the chick-magnet tank on their heels, causing everything in front of it to be blown into oblivion.

A second later, he saw Church sprint up the rocky path and ended up crouching in the position he had been in less than five minutes ago, out of breath and nearly suffering a panic attack.

"So I take it plan number two didn't work?" Tucker asked.

"Shut up Tucker!" Church snapped back.

"What the hell is going out there?" Tucker asked.

"The rookie…he brought… the tank" Church explained, starved for breath.

Grif's and Simmons's cries echoed throughout the canyon as the explosions got closer and closer. One of the explosions got a little too close, scorching the back of Grif's armour and sending him flying. Simmons tried dashing over to help him but was stalled when the main cannon was aimed directly at him.

"…Please don't kill me" he said meekly.

"You may want to go ahead and tell your commander that the Blues have a little extra firepower now" Caboose called out.

Simmons nodded like a maniac.

"Start running now and I'll even give you a ten second head start" Caboose continued.

Simmons ran over to Grif's fallen body, tossed over him over his shoulders, and in a burst adrenaline fuelled fear sprinted back asfast as he could back to Red Base, with Grif's heavy frame dangling from behind.

By the time he got to the entrance of Red Base, Simmons felt the slightest bit of confidence enter his gut. Defiantly he turned around to face the tank and the blue soldier that was piloting it. Feeling like William Wallace for a single moment of his life, the maroon coloured soldier yelled out t the top of his lungs.

"This isn't over Blue! Just you wait! When our sergeant hears about this, he's going to come at you with full force! You hear that! Not even your large and incredibly intimidating tank can stop us! So suck it!"

"Yeah! Suck it Blue!" Grif called out, woozily.

Their response was an explosion that incinerated the ground less than a metre from them. In blind panic, the Red ran inside the base to hide from the vicious metal beast.

"Way to go Sheila" Caboose grinned, sub-consciously patting the helm of the tank. With that, he slowly exited the vehicle, falling and landing onto the green ground below.

"Hey rookie!" the voice of Church caught the soldier's attention, and he looked up to see the light blue soldier perched up on the edge of the cliff.

"_Oh this should be good"_

"…Nice going!" he called out.

Caboose was caught off guard.

"Why didn't you tell us you could drive the tank? That was fucking awesome! You sent the Reds running!" he called out, an odd sort of sincerity in his voice.

Caboose felt his smile widen, he sure wasn't expecting this.

"What can I say? I'm full of surprises!" he called back.

"Hey listen…about all that bullshit that happened earlier" Church began, feeling slightly uncomfortable.

"Let's just blame it on Tucker and call it a day" Caboose nodded.

"Sounds good to me!" Church grinned.

For a split second, both men found themselves mutually respecting one another. The term the enemy of the enemy is my friend had never been truer than at this point.

"_Maybe life here won't be so bad after all"_ Caboose thought to himself.

"You two are both assholes!" Tucker suddenly snapped.

Caboose turned to see that Tucker was actually right beside the tank, cracks of cyan now becoming through the black dirt that the teleporter.

"You got down here fast" Caboose commented.

"That was she said, bow chika bow wow!" Tucker grinned.

"…Where did that come from?" Caboose asked.

"Huh? I have no idea, just kind of felt right" Tucker shrugged.

It was then he set his eyes on the tank, and like a greedy kid at Christmas, he clambered himself onto it and clumsily go himself into the driver's seat. A slight sense of worry past into Caboose, and went directly besides the driver's helm.

"Uh, Tucker? Maybe you shouldn't mess around with it" Caboose insisted.

"Oh come on! How hard can it be? Any vehicle is like a woman, you just tell them what to do and they do it. Easy as pie!" Tucker grinned, before he set his sights on the control panel.

"Now…how do you make this thing go forward?" he asked.

"Hey! What are you guys doing down there?" Church called out.

"Tucker, I really think you should active" ate the tutorial program, if you mess around you could end up-"

"Ah, found it!" Tucker thought aloud, pressing a random control.

"_Automatic targeting system engaged, now scanning for enemy targets" _Sheila's voice suddenly emerged from the heart of the tank.

"Wait, what?" Tucker thought aloud.

The main cannon scanned the environment around it, before slowly making its way up towards the rocky area…and came to a sudden top when it located Church's presence.

"_Target locked, preparing to fire" _

"What?" Tucker cried out in fear.

"Sheila! Engage friendly fire program!" Caboose yelled out. The tank shook for a moment, afterwards there was a tense silence between man and machine, with a confused Church still having no idea what was going on.

"_Friendly Fire engaged, powering down" _Sheila finally responded.

Caboose breathed a huge sigh of relief. For a moment he was scared that Church may have been killed. That as the last thing this team needed. As soon as he got back to base e was going to tear command to shreds with how things were turning out down here.

"Phew, that was a close one. So if that switch fires the cannon…then this one must move it forward" Tucker thought aloud, pressing another switch on the control panel.

"_Friendly Fire disabled, now firing on last recorded target" _

"What the hell…?" Church thought aloud.

It didn't click until the barrel of the tank's main cannon was aimed directly at him, and he could feel the heat of the loaded shell. Despite Caboose's and Tucker's cry from below, all he could hear was the screeching of the cannon firing.

"Oh, son of a bitch…"

The resulting explosion blew apart the side of the canyon, and sent Church's now lifeless body flying over them, landing in a smouldering heap just a few yards off from them.

There was silence between Tucker and Caboose for a very long time, before the latter finally broke the silence. Now, he usually wasn't one for cursing, after all the last time he had said a taboo word in his house back on Earth his mother had over faster than a demon and clipped him around the ear. However, at that particular moment, he couldn't hold himself back.

"WHY THE FUCK DID YOU DO THAT?" he howled.


	8. Ghosts

Red vs. Blue: A Soldier's Strife

Ghosts

The last funeral Caboose had been too had occurred little over 10 years ago, and it had been the most awful day of his life. He had always been aware that his father could die as a result of the war, and had spent time mentally preparing himself for it.

He remembered the day he had left. It was perfectly pictured in his mind, clear as glass.

His father had spent the majority of the morning trying to quell his mother who had all but broken down into hysterics, and was at the point of screaming. By the time he had finally managed to pry her away, he was literally heading out the door. He knew he had no time to sit down and have a long father to son chat. So instead, he walked over to him; the sunset's light silhouetting him as if he were a walking shadow.

He reached down and roughed up his son's messy blonde hair, brushing away the steady stream of tears that were rapidly falling down his young face, though he was trying with all the might that a child possessed not to let it show.

"Son, until I see you get married and bless me and your mother with the world's most beautiful grandchildren, there's not a chance I'm dying. The Covenant, The UNSC, even Hell itself won't keep me down until I see those days. So don't you worry about me. You've got to protect your mother while I'm gone, can you do that for me?" he asked.

Through a veil of tears, a young Caboose had nodded his head a single time, refusing to let despair get the better of him.

"Good man" And just like that, like a leaf being carried off by the wind of a new season, he had vanished out of his life.

Those years had been hard, but he endured, those words burning in his mind like a supernova. He buried himself in his hobbies, whether it was exercising until it felt like his muscles were utterly torn, or researching all that was required of a soldier. He became fixated on the idea of becoming a great soldier, determined to become even a fragment of the man his father was. The only thing he remembered more clearly than his father leaving was his father coming home.

And what a day that was.

That winter morning had seemed ordinary, the first shades of white where starting to show around their house. He dragged himself downstairs, the cold stinging at his skin like an enraged hornet. When he had entered the kitchen, he saw a man who was missing a leg embracing his weeping mother. He looked at him with old and scarred eyes, but they were his eyes none the less.

The child with messy blond hair had broken down then and there, falling to the floor, not even having the strength to embrace his father. He just sat there, staining the floor with his tears staining the wooden floor. The wounded soldier had forced himself up, and with great difficulty made his way over to his son and held him close. The child wailed and cried for nearly half an hour, praying he hadn't slipped into a dream.

"Told you I'd be back" his father had said softly, stroking the boy's hair. That memory was his happiest, and yet his saddest. He was overjoyed at his father's return, yet he wept for the wound he had suffered. The wound that would not heal, forcing him to spent his days in a wheelchair. The war had left its bloody imprint on his father's soul, an imprint that corrupted his dreams for years to come. But the most important thing was that his father was home, he would be able to hear him tell his stories, laugh with him, cry with him, and spend as much time with him as possible before time chose to take him away.

Yet, whenever that memory entered his mind, a slight hint of fear came with it. After the tears had all faded, he peered over his father's shoulder. His mother was crying in joy, overwhelmed with emotion. She had her family together once again, and she was going to protect them all, no matter what the cost. But then there was the other figure, standing in their house, casting his shadow across their floor. His expression was not one of joy, but of emptiness. His cerulean blue eyes were not staring at the war-torn man whom he shared blood ties with.

They were staring at directly at him, and they were lifeless. Caboose had only been ten at the time, but even then he felt scared when his younger brother looked at him with those eyes.

Cecil was four years younger than he was, and wasn't even born when his father left. His hair was unnaturally snowy white, while his eyes were as hard as marble and as sharp as blades. Ever since he could understand speech Caboose had spent every waking moment talking about his father, telling him all the stories that his father had told him. He would always tell him what a magnificent man he was, and how he would understand once he met him. His brother would always look at him with those empty eyes, and he would try to tell himself that his quiet nature would pass when he met their father.

If anything, things only got worse.

He couldn't deny that the build up to the tragedy were some of the happiest moments of his life. He got to be a child again and he got to reminisce with his father. His stories became far more exhilarating yet far more gritty, the happy endings usually doing little to cover up the sadness that occurred. These happy moments were only hindered when he caught sight of Cecil. He would always stand at a distance, in shadow when possible, and stare at his father like he was a stranger. Whenever they were together, they barely ever interacted, despite encouragement from both mother and brother; they never bonded as father and son.

Looking back, Caboose realised that the three of them together had become the norm for Cecil. The sudden introduction of this strange man had upset the balance he was used to. He had no idea that this was the way things had been like before he was born, in his mind everything was changing.

And he didn't like change.

Caboose had just turned fourteen, where he had come across Cecil in his bedroom. He was about to ask what he was up to, and if he wanted to come fishing with him and their father. He was stopped dead in his tracks when he saw what he was doing.

The family photo of himself, his mother and his father, sitting and smiling together with a hail of fallen leaves in the background was on the floor. That picture had been taken years ago, yet was a favourite moment of his family. A time when there were no cares in the world, only laughter and love.

The frame had been smashed, glass scattering along the wooden floor, like shining grass in a varnished meadow. Cecil's hand was stained red from where the glass had cut open his hand, the fragments of glass reflecting in the late afternoon light like he had diamonds embedded in his skin. He had a large shard of glass in his hand, and had used it to carve away the face of their father to the point where it was unrecognisable. The top corner of the photo had been torn and small drops of blood had dripped onto the photographed figures of Caboose and his mother. Cecil stared at his brother with empty eyes, no form of pain visible in them.

Back then, Caboose had rarely lost his temper, and had only lashed out at a few people in his life. But then, watching that scene unfold, he saw red and let out a hate-filled scream. He tacked his brother to the floor, and proceeded to repeatedly punch him in the face. He was screaming in rage, demanding why he did such a thing. He kept going at it for minutes until his mother tore him away. Cecil didn't retaliate once; he just kept staring at him.

That was the last time he saw his brother. He was checked into a mental examination institute on a daily basis, and whenever he returned home, Caboose avoided him altogether.

One morning, still filled with bitter anger, he came down to find his mother sobbing and his father silent as the grave. It took his mother a good ten minutes before she could find the words to tell her eldest son that his younger sibling was dead.

All anger evaporated from his body in an instant, and was replaced by overwhelming grief.

Cecil had suffered a heart attack at the clinic where he was recovering. How this had happened, how this was even possible, and the circumstances surrounding it were unknown. All Caboose knew was that the very next day, he watched his brother get buried. He spent weeks at his grave, just standing there crying. It wasn't until his father told him he had overcome it for the sake of his mother did he stop publically showing his grief, and instead kept it bottled up inside, trying to burn the painful memories away.

Caboose thought the family would break as a result, but in fact, it seemed to strengthen them. It took his mother a few months to recover completely, but soon Cecil's passing became nothing more than a routine of sadness.

Just before Caboose left to join the army, Cecil's name stopped being mentioned altogether. He eventually became just another casualty, where only his good attributes were remembered, and his dark tendencies swiftly forgotten.

* * *

Church's funeral on the other hand, wasn't nearly as emotional. In fact if anything it was really, really awkward. In a makeshift grave, buried under a shallow layer of dirt, the former commander of the Blue Army rested in some form of peace.

Caboose was unsure what emotion to feel. He was stunned by his sudden passing, guilty for getting on shaky terms earlier on, angry at Tucker for actually killing him, and confused as to what to do next. They were now an army of two, and if the Reds decided to launch an attack, they would be majorly outnumbered.

"I can't believe this…" Caboose thought aloud.

"I know…the prick owned my fifty dollars!" Tucker added.

"Are you serious? You just blew your commanding officer to hell, and you're still complaining?" Caboose snapped at the cyan soldier.

"He was a douchebag in life, I'm sure he'll be a douchebag in death" Tucker relied, shrugging his shoulders as if it was no big deal.

"So no words of comfort or compassion from you then, right?" Caboose hissed, voice dripping with sarcasm.

"What do you want me to say? Church was a huge asshole who couldn't shoot for toffee, stole all the beer, came up with the shittiest strategies, never let me use the sniper rifle, and spent his days being a huge jerk who couldn't be bothered to even order me any good porno magazines" Tucker explained.

"…Anything nice you want to say about your superior who you sent to an early grave, at all?" Caboose asked, not believing how disrespectful the man was being.

"Um…uh…he…he was…ah…um…oh wait! He made really good cappuccino!" Tucker finally announced.

"And…that's it?" Caboose asked.

"That's the long and the shot of it"

Caboose sighed, looking upon the grave of the man who had been his commander for less than seven hours. He had no idea what to make of the guy; he certainly wasn't deserving of a death like that, and for such little a cause. It wasn't a huge sacrifice, it was an accident caused by a fellow officer, and gotten then no step closer to winning this so called war.

Caboose's thoughts drifted to the girl that Church was supposedly going to marry. How would she react? How would command let her know? Would they allow himself and Tucker to go visit her, comfort her and fabricate a story so that she could be proud of her lover?

While Caboose pondered on this matter, Tucker was already calling said command via radio. The only thing involving Church's death that he did care about was the fact that they were now down a man, and the Reds now outnumbered them.

"Calling command, come in Blue Command! This Blood Gulch Outpost Alpha! Do you copy! Please say you copy!" Tucker yelled trough his radio.

_"Roger Blood Gulch Outpost Alpha, this is Blue Command, what is your request?"_ the voice responded, providing feedback into both Tucker's and Caboose's radio.

"I'm not sure what that proper technical term is, but we're pretty fucked down here! We've got one dead and the Reds managed to steal our flag, we could use some help down here!" Tucker replied.

_"The new rookie was killed in combat?"_ the voice asked.

"Wait, what? No, he's still alive; Leonard Church is the one who got killed by...uh…a malfunction of the tank. Yeah, that's what happened" Tucker coughed nervously.

Caboose's eyes narrowed, the comment made by command puzzling him slightly.

"We need reinforcements, stat!" Tucker added urgently.

_"Roger that Blood Gulch, we'll notify the nearest Freelancer and have him deployed immediately. Contact should be made within a few hours, stand by"_ the voice form command explained.

"Freelancer?" Caboose asked.

"Guns for hire, they're neither Red nor Blue. They'll work for whoever has the most money. Command usually sends over when shit hits the fan" Tucker elaborated.

"So they're sending us a mercenary? Why would-" Caboose asked, however, he was cut off when the voice form command spoke up again.

_"Alright Blood Gulch Outpost Alpha, we are sending Freelancer Tex. T.O.A three hours, command out"_ the voice concluded, before the radio cut out.

"Let's hope this guy counts for at least three soldiers, otherwise we're royally fucked" Tucker sighed.

He looked at Caboose, who looked like he wasn't even breathing, his body rooted to the spot.

"What's with you?" he asked.

"…Tucker, is it a normal occurrence in Blood Gulch for the spiritual projections of your deceased commanders to suddenly appear in front of you?" Caboose asked, his voice dead serious.

"…No, why?" Tucker asked.

"Because I'm currently looking at what appears to be the ghost of Church"


	9. Shadow of Tex

Red vs. Blue: A Soldier's Strife 

Shadow of Tex

"It was fucking huge! It was like Godzilla had a love child with the Terminator! It nearly blew us to fucking kingdom come! I was on the verge of death! I saw a bright light at the end of a crappy tunnel! I was literally seconds away from crossing over!"

Grif had been ranting for the past ten minutes. This was partly because he was so traumatised by the incident, partly because of the morphine that was being pumped into him to counteract the pain that was coursing through his back and partly because he was trying to see how long he could bullshit his way out of Sarge pulling out his shotgun and finishing the job the tank started.

"Why the hell don't we have something like that?! All we had was a jeep that got blown into a shitload of pieces! Couldn't command send us something like a giant warship?! Cause if that thing comes after us then we are royally fucked! Right up the backside!" the orange-armoured soldier continued to rant.

The members of the Red Army were gathered atop their base to "discuss" how to try and counter the Blues' latest assault. The assault had left them without a vehicle and had sent a fresh surge of panic running through them. Well, Grif was fearful, everyone was else was just wondering how much morphine was needed before he would finally pass out.

"We're dead! We are so dead! That new Blue is a fucking nutcase! He nearly blew me into a million pieces! If Command doesn't send help we might as well just surren-" Grif found he was unable to continue speaking, as a red fist had buried itself into the side of his helmet and sent him plummeting to the dusty earth.

"You say another syllable dirt bag and I'll have to introduce you to Senor Shotgun! I thought I told you that word was taboo! Now you stay down there and shut the hell up! Double time!" Sarge ordered. The red armoured soldier was unusually calm; he hadn't even let out so much as a curse when he had heard that single Blue soldier had destroyed his jeep and sent his subordinates running for the hills like terrified sheep. Which for this old war-hawk meant he was seething in such rage that not even Grif being barbecued by hungry wolverines wouldn't relieve the boiling vortex of his deep south anger.

"Men, we have a crisis on our hands! Those dirty blues have obviously conspired with high level government executives in order to get the upper hand on us! Well I won't stand for it! So what if they have a tank? We have a tight-knit team that is bound by friendship, honour and a willingness to decapitate our enemies and spread their innards around our base!" he declared.

"…He is talking about us…right?" Grif asked aloud. The word friendship and Sarge were cosmically destined to never be used in the same sentence under risk of the universe collapsing.

Simmons was tearing up. "That was beautiful sir...I never knew you cared so much about our union as a group. You're a beautiful, beautiful man!" he choked.

"…Okay seriously, this level of kissassery is just getting uncomfortable" Gris said, shivering from the word of his ally.

"Shut up the pair of you! Simmons; save the ambiguous compliments for later! Grif; quit your yapping and prepare yourself! We're going to launch a counterattack on those blue bastards!" he declared.

"Excellent suggestion sir" Simmons managed to snip in.

"Uh, I think you two are forgetting the fact that these guys have a giant, freaking tank! We'll be splattered all over Blood Gulch" Grif interjected.

"Those scumbags may have a tank that can blow our bodies into atoms without the slightest bit of effort, but we have something far more deadly at our disposal!" Sarge announced.

The two soldiers looked at each other briefly. "We do?" they asked in unison.

There was a flurry of footsteps, and both soldiers looked up to see a flash of pink cross their eyes. They weren't sure if they were seeing things due to a malfunction in their helmets. Before them was a soldier in florescent pink armour, holding their weapon in a very feminine posture. There was a moment of confusion, fear, excitement, and ultimate horror when the soldier started to speak.

"Hey guys! Check out this awesome new armour! It even came in this amazing light red colour!"

* * *

Caboose used to believe in ghosts when he was younger. He did so because of two factors. The first was that during the time of his father's absence, he often found himself seeing reflections of him randomly, tricks of the light or tricks of the mind. Either way it left him dazzled and brought his spirits down, thinking that he had become a spectral figure due to dying somewhere on some nameless battlefield.

His mother had comforted him and herself by saying that ghosts were just angels that hadn't grown their wings yet, and were waiting for the Lord to bless them and take them up to his eternal kingdom. That was the happier thought of the two.

The other factor was his brother. During the times of his mental decay, he often found himself looking upon Cecil and thinking to himself that he was a ghost made flesh. Unable to grow wings and reach heaven's door because of the blood that coursed through his veins and the flesh that imprisoned him. It had given him a small measure of comfort when he had passed away, hoping that his brother had finally found his wings.

Now, this on the other hand was a less metaphorical experience and more a shit-your-pants moment.

"Who are you?!" Tucker yelled out in a high-pitched voice that was slightly less than dignified.

"I am the ghost of Church, and I've come back with a warning!" the apparition declared in a ghostly manner.

Caboose could barely believe his eyes and ears. "C-Church? Is that really you?" he asked in amazement, this was beyond anything he had ever seen.

"Well no shit it's me! Who were you expecting? Patrick Swazey? I'm a freaking ghost!" he snapped back. His voice remained the same s normal, no distinct signs that he was now a spectre of sorts, nothing accept his gloomy white appearance.

Caboose wasn't deterred. "But you made it to the other side! You're speaking to us from beyond the grave! Is there a heaven? Can you see the dead? Have you seen the face God?" he rattled on, in sheer shock and excitement.

"…Dude, do like have some ghost fetish or something?" Tucker asked.

Caboose glared through his helmet. "Your former commander just came back as a ghost, and that doesn't even raise a few questions for you?!"

"Not really. Now if he came back as a ghost supermodel, then I'd be interested" he replied in all seriousness.

Church partially gaped. "Why would you…you know what, fuck it. I don't have time for this! I came back all this way to warn you assholes so you better open up your ears!" the former Blue leader snapped back.

"Wait! Just quickly…is…there another side? After you die? What's it like?" Caboose persisted, not letting the opportunity slip by.

"What? You mean the afterlife?"

"Yes!"

Church pondered for a moment. "Well it's...kind of boring" he admitted.

"…Boring"

"Yeah, boring"

"…How can the afterlife be-"

"It basically looks like Blood Gulch on a very misty day. I can't see any choirs or half naked women with feathers on their shoulders coming over to take me paradise. Just a lot of grey and a lot of quiet" Church explained not o pleased with the situation either.

"…That's it?"

"That's it rookie"

Caboose gave a heavy sigh. This whole situation was confusing, and to hear that a belief that he had been tenuously clinging onto could be shattered so easily. Still, he could contemplate this later. The fact of the matter was that his deceased commander had broken the veil to talk to them about a matter that was apparently so important that the afterlife couldn't hold him.

Tucker interjected. "So why are you here? We sort of buried you're body. Quite deep"

"Well considering you're the one who killed me with a fucking tank, you can consider your ass haunted for the rest of this life you team killing fucktard!" Church snapped back.

Tucker snorted. "It was the damn tank's fault"

"Oh I'll get to the tank after I turn all your dreams into prison sense that would make Stephen King cringe!" he retorted in cold anger.

"…You can do that?"

"I'm about to fucking try!"

Caboose coughed, stepping before any possession could be implemented. "You said you came here to warn us? Warn us about what?" he asked.

The ghost of Church cooled off for a second. "Yeah I did. It's about Tex"

The newest Blue recruit raised an eyebrow. "You mean the mercenary?"

"That's it. Tex is trouble, and I mean deep trouble. Nothing good can come of it, all it will mean is that you guys will end up getting gutted, which will lead to a huge headache for me" he explained.

"Why? What's so bad about this guy?" Tucker asked.

"You heard of Sidewinder?" he asked

Caboose nodded. "One of the coldest planets I've ever visited"

"Yeah, freeze your balls of cold. Well, I was stationed with a bunch of other guys there, typical military procedure, just bitching about the cold. Then Tex arrived…"

The apparition of the deceased commander went into full detail of the bloodbath on the frozen planet.

* * *

"It's pink" Grif said abruptly.

"What? No its not! Its light red!" Donut clarified.

"Yeah, and light red has another name. It's called pink" Simmons added.

Before Donut could start up another argument over the colour of his armour, which would eventually lead into talks about fashion, Grif once again stepped forward to stop what would have been a verbal armada that neither of the Red soldiers wanted to hear.

"So, remind me how the walking Barbie improves our odds against a tank?" Grif asked.

"Well isn't it obvious! Now we outnumber them a dozen to two! Now that we have their flag, their morale will be so down that they won't have the will to pilot the tank! That's when we strike and take out all those dirty blues!" Sarge announced in victory.

Grif and Simmons looked at each other briefly.

"That is the greatest/worst strategy ever!"

* * *

"With his own skull?" Tucker repeated, gulping slightly.

"I didn't think it was possible either, but they you go" Church shrugged.

"Why were you the only one left alive?" Caboose inquired.

"I have a feeling it was a personal matter, you see…oh no"

"What is it?"

"I'm losing the connection, I'm getting dragged back! You have to listen to me! Don't get involved with Tex!" Church urged. His ghostly form fading in and out, slowly becoming more and more transparent to the naked eye.

"Wait! I still don't get it! How do you now Tex? How do you know about any of this?" Caboose asked quickly as the apparition slowly dissolved from sight.

"Remember that girl I mentioned back home? Well…let's just say Tex is the reason we never got married" he slowly stated.

And with that, the spectral figure disappeared into nothingness. Both soldiers slowly turned to each other, unsure if what had just transpired had actually happened. Tucker wa sth one to break the awkward tension.

"Church and Tex were after the same girl!" he deduced.

"You think?" Caboose asked.

"What else could it be? The guy is obviously a psycho and just wanted to mess with him! Glad we hired him and not the Reds!"

"I don't know…something smells fishy" Caboose added nervously.

There was the familiar sound of a bullet being loaded into the chamber, and the feel of metal against metal as the end of a pistol was pressed to the back of Caboose's helmet.

"So, are you the morons I was hired to assist?" a deep voice, like rolling thunder, a dark shadow cast over the pair.

Caboose suddenly understood why Church's voice had an undertone of fear to it, shivers crawling up his spine as the killing machine known a Tex stood over him.


	10. Violent Introductions

Red vs Blue: A Soldier's Strife

Violent Introductions 

The first thing he had learnt when he entered the military, was that he was going to have to get used to not hearing his name for a good long while, at least until he had gained a bit more respect from his colleagues. It had been just over three months, and he had just about gotten used to his new title – Private.

The first few weeks had been rough, for him more than most recruits. While others had trained until their bones broke, persisted and applied until they had earned their respectable start to military life. No matter how their attitudes and performances varied, by that stage none could deny that they had made their choice and that on its own was to be respected.

But not for him.

He was an entirely different story altogether. Apparently his father was so delusional by this point that he thought that wealth and influence could land his only son a position above the rest. Despite protests of every kind, it took a stellar and uncompromising response from the unit's commander to set the business tycoon straight. Still, excessive strain on the chain of command from the variety of suits at his disposal meant that the title of private was his without any need to apply or go through any form of interview.

It wasn't as if he didn't have what it took to be a soldier. His fitness and intelligence were within the requirements, what he was lacking was the confidence and motivation. The wish of his old man had been for him to take up arms and be a hero in the eyes of the people. Unfortunately for him, there was no-one to take up arms against. Still, this fleeting wish landed him in a uniform and a unit; a unit that had heard about his easy pass and background, which quickly provoked hostility.

The Private had made a silent promise to himself on the first day. That he would sieve through all the remarks and cold shoulders and prove himself an able soldier, not for his father, but for himself. With that mentality, he gradually gained the confidence of his fellow unit as every patrol, recon and firefight ended victoriously for them. Their commander had been so impressed with their progress that there were even talks of Sky Outpost on the agenda, an opportunity to really test and improve their capabilities as soldiers.

That was the first time the Private had really felt that becoming a soldier may have been the best thing that had ever happened to him. That sense of blissful euphoria lasted until early this morning, when the gunshots started.

Their base was small, located far across the uninhabited plains of Luyten, providing formidable defense and isolation. A large group of any magnitude was easy to spot with sight alone never-mind their state of the art detection systems. A single character, dashing through the rocky plains, and edging his way around every piece of sensory equipment was a different story altogether.

It sounded preposterous; they were well equipped with over twenty men with some heavy training and experience under their belts. When the first shot was heard, those achievements melted away.

Blood and shredded fragments of armor were scattered around every turn, only one of the victims having the luxury of a bullet to the head. He had woken up to the blackness of a gun barrel staring right into his eyes before all light vanished in a deafening sound of thunder. From that point the base divulged into chaos.

The first few had rushed straight into gunfire as they had sprung from their rooms, some not even in armor yet. A borrowed assault rifle made short work of them before things got really gritty.

Still in a state of confusion, the commander had rallied everyone else deeper into the base in preparation for a counterattack against the invading forces. The Private was fumbling around, desperately loading ammunition into his sidearm. He had just managed to fill up the chamber when the sealed doors burst open before them.

There was a flash of white, and a shard that was once a fortified door was buried into the neck of the nearest soldier. All hell broke loose after that.

Bullets tore through the air, tearing the inside walls to pieces but barely holding a candle to the intruder, whose fluidity prevented even a scratch to permeate his armor. His movements seemed inhuman, rolling, skidding and bending in such a way that was both graceful and sinister. He propelled himself forward, ducking under the wildfire of lead before finding his prey, a heavily built soldier whose battle rifle's slowness was his downfall.

The butt of the rifle was send directly into his windpipe, slipping past the protection of his helmet. His larger body mass made the perfect shield as the attacker drenched in white steel allowed his fleshy back to take most of the heavy fire while he relieved him of his weapon.

What followed was a pattern of distraction, a dance of death. No matter how hard the soldier's pulled the trigger or how quick they dodged, they were miles off from hitting or avoiding the flurry of their attacker. The Private found his vision blurred when he was knocked off his feet by a rifle smashing into him, his skull mimicking a church bell. When his sight and hearing had finally managed to restore itself, he found himself surrounded by his dead squad. It was almost a small mercy in some cases, at least he hadn't had to witness one soldier sliced in half by a rather sharp remnant of the door. She had been perky, but strong, she had even kissed him at that party after they had successfully completed that retrieval. Now he could see the tattered remains of her ribcage sprawled all over the floor.

There was a gruff cry from behind him, followed by a series of precisely timed gunshots. The Private raised his head just in time to see his commander suffer a bullet hole to his chest, crotch and neck. The blood trickled out of each and wound, collecting as a crimson puddle that his body was careless dropped in.

Fear of the most primitive kind filled every corner of the Private's body. Escape. That word resonated in his head like an eternal echo. Had to find an exit, had to run and run like hell. He still had his sidearm. Good. He had a means of defense. Just run and shoot. Run and shoot. Run and –

There was a sharp click next to his ear. His eyes couldn't help themselves, and peered up. The commander's shotgun was staring him dead in the eye. The fear was replaced by an odd sense of numbness, a tranquil kind of cold setting into his skin. Beyond the shotgun was a lean figure, crisp white armor, above standard issue. The helmet was rather intimidating, like something the reaper would wear if he took to the battlefield.

"Well done soldier, you're superiors and kinsmen thank you for your sacrifice" the mocking tone on his voice was no lost on him.

He only managed to squeak out one word before his skull was ripped apart and he sprayed the wall in the richest scarlet.

"Daddy…"

* * *

Caboose was very still. The end of the gun was digging into his helmet, no amount of padding was going to stop or even slow a bullet if the opposition decided to pull the trigger. He tried to slow his breathing, trying to remain calm. Unfortunately he was the only one that was calm.

"Holy shit, where did you come from?!" the cyan soldier yelped out, nearly falling on his back from the sudden appearance of this third soldier.

"No wonder this army is going downhill, if that's how you react to an enemy I'm surprised you weren't killed a long time ago" the new figure replied. The voice was deep and undeniably masculine, though there was something about it that bugged Caboose.

"_Sounds almost…mechanical..."_ he thought to himself.

"Freelancer Tex?" he asked aloud, as calmly as possible.

"Yeah, and who you supposed to be asswipe?" the mercenary snapped back, as he did there was shift motion at the back of Caboose's head, the gun moving ever so slightly.

That was his cue.

He spun himself around, a swerving motion that turned him around to face his attacker, but bent back enough to avid the inevitable gunshot. His left hand met their wrist in a quick and precise strike, the result leading the bullet to head off, scraping the tip of the armor over his shoulder. Which nearly manage to take off Tucker's head, earning a particularly girly scream.

Caboose drove a fist into the chest piece of Tex, which was lackluster in strength to say the least. However, it did its job of pushing him back a step or two, giving the Blue plenty of time to gather his bearings.

"I'm the new guy" he retorted smugly.

There was a moment of silence before Tex dropped the sidearm and cracked his knuckles.

"Kid, you've got balls, and now I'm going to rip them off" he threatened.

There was a slight sensation of fear in the back of Caboose's mind; obviously this mercenary was quick to anger and even quicker to retaliate. He cracked his neck, expecting that he was giving to be receiving as well as giving a few bruises in a few moments.

"Come get them" he challenged before adopting an all too familiar stance. Those long winters with an instructor and all those test matches against recruits back at Sky Outpost, something told him this was going to be a tad more difficult.

Tex practically broke the earth beneath him as he dashed forward, impressive speed and fists wired to break bones. Caboose readied his body, a mountain ready to be swallowed by an enraged sea.

Tucker gaped at the pair as their fight quickly broke out amongst the plains of Blood Gulch.

"Aren't we all meant to be on the same team?!"


End file.
